


The Gift

by lary



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:25:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lary/pseuds/lary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House organises the last bachelor party Wilson is ever going to have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own them.

 

 

 

Wilson should have known that if House ever gave him a gift, it would be something incredibly weird.  
  
“Um, thanks, I guess,” he stammered, holding the box containing a pair of bright golden boxers.  
  
“You're welcome, sweetie,” House said heartily, sitting on the couch opposite Wilson's desk.  
  
“Uh, what's the occasion, if you don't mind me asking?”  
  
“You never know when you might need them,” House winked.  
  
Wilson was fairly certain that golden underwear was something he would never come to need. He looked at House in puzzlement. The diagnostician grinned.  
  
“Fine. They're your engagement present.”  
  
Wilson felt his pulse speed up, and air leave his lungs. He didn't even notice dropping the box on the floor. “House, you don't mean--” he started in a quiet voice, not quite believing it.  
  
House was quiet, the grin was replaced slowly with a smile. Wilson felt warmth grow inside him and an idiotic smile rise on his own face.  
  
“So. Will you?” House asked softly.  
  
“Yes, I'll marry you,” Wilson said, walking around his desk to kiss him, long and hard. He felt the dizzying sensation of stubble against his skin and the way in which House smiled into the kiss. A light laughter escaped him as soon as they broke apart.  
  
“Good,” House noted. Wilson stared into his eyes, getting lost in the blue, not even thinking to sit down until he was pulled on the couch by House, who kissed him again.  
  
  
**  
  
  
When Thirteen got to work, she spotted Wilson in the entrance hall, practically glowing. The oncologist was surrounded by what looked like all of female staff members of the hospital, plus half of the male ones.  
  
She took the stairs up and opened the door to the conference room. The look on Kutner's face told her that the rest of the team was equally curious. She sat down with them, and it wasn't more than ten minutes before House barged in.  
  
“New patient. Headaches, dizziness and loss of balance. Oh, and the best part is that she can't speak.”  
  
“What's the mystery here?” Taub asked. “A brain tumour accounts for all of her symptoms.”  
  
“Yeah, well, the cancer chick is seriously hot, so I stole her from Wilson,” House admitted.  
  
“Speaking of whom, what's going on?” Thirteen asked.  
  
“I'm making an honest man out of him,” House stated. “Fourth time's the charm, right?”  
  
“Seriously? You two are getting married?” Taub asked disbelievingly.  
  
“Yep. And don't think I've missed the irony that I'm marrying Wilson just as you're about to be divorced,” House smirked.  
  
“I'm not--” Taub started, but House cut him off.  
  
“Oh, right, would be stupid to get divorced when cheating is so much more fun than regular sleeping around.”  
  
“You need somebody to check out strippers again?” Thirteen asked.  
  
“Nah,” House said, surprisingly.  
  
“Really? I vividly remember you both liking the ones in Chase's bachelor party.”  
  
“Shut up,” Chase said quickly.  
  
“Relax, wombat, I'm sure Cameron hasn't bugged the room or anything,” House grinned wickedly.  
  
“So, no strippers?” Kutner asked a little disappointedly.  
  
“No. Something better,” House promised him.  
  
“How come I suspect I don't actually want to have anything to do with this,” Taub said with a frown.  
  
House flipped the white board, and Thirteen started laughing.  
  
“Cool,” Kutner grinned.  
  
“I was right. I definitely don't want anything to do with this,” Taub said, when he got back the ability to speak.  
  
“You'll do it, unless you want me to invite your wife, too,” House threatened.  
  
“Who's Brad?” Chase asked with a puzzled frown.  
  
Thirteen smirked. “Don't worry, I'll do some educating,” she promised.  
  
“Good. I trust you to also persuade Foreman. Now, whoever wants to score points with Cuddy go find me a real patient. I'll find Cameron.”  
  
Chase followed House to the hallway, and Thirteen could hear his puzzled question, “What is it you need Cameron for?”  
  
  
**  
  
  
Wilson was pleased to run into Nora downstairs when coming home from work. She'd been a good friend of his ever since they'd moved to the loft, and she was one of the neighbours who'd been the most accepting of a gay couple living in the building.  
  
“I'm so happy for the two of you!” she said, her eyes sparkling. Wilson smiled, getting two letters out of the mail box.  
  
“Thanks, Nora. I'm really happy, too.”  
  
“Did you set the date yet?”  
  
“Not really, but we don't want anything big, so probably sometime in the next few months.”  
  
“And you didn't have any idea, did you?”  
  
“None,” Wilson admitted. “It was a complete surprise. I mean, I've known from the beginning that I want us to be together for the rest of our lives, but I never thought House would want to get married.”  
  
“How did he propose?” Nora asked. She was practically gushing, seeming almost as excited as Wilson was feeling. He hadn't been able to stop smiling for the whole day.  
  
“Ah, well, he gave me a gift and told me it was an engagement present.”  
  
“Ohh, that's so romantic! What was it?”  
  
Wilson felt himself blushing. “Uh, it was kind of, um--”  
  
“Oh, sorry, never mind, of course it would be something you'd wish to keep between the two of you. I totally understand.”  
  
Wilson wanted to say that it was good that one of them did, but thought better of it. He had almost forgotten about the gift during the day, having absently chucked it into his desk drawer after House had left his office.  
  
“Well, don't let me keep you,” Nora said, turning to go. “I'm sure you've got a romantic night ahead of you.”  
  
“Oh, wait,” Wilson suddenly remembered. “I heard there's a new version of Annie running in the Palace Theatre in New York. I haven't seen it in ages, do you want to go watch it sometime?” he asked. He and Nora had travelled to see musicals together every once in a while, the drive wasn't too bad, and he was excited about finally having a friend who was as enthusiastic about them as he was.  
  
“Sure, I'd like that. Oh, except that I'm pretty sure House mentioned he was going to take you to a musical sometime soon, so maybe you should check with him first that it's not the same one he's planning,” Nora said.  
  
“House?” Wilson asked. This was getting weird. “He isn't really the musical type, he must have been kidding.”  
  
“Ah, then,” Nora laughed. “Call me about it later, okay?”  
  
  
**  
  
  
He and House were sitting on the couch comfortably. The O.C. had just finished and Wilson was debating with himself.  
  
He decided to go for it, to see House's expression, if nothing else.  
  
“Nora and I are going to go and watch Annie sometime soon, probably next week or the one after that. She though I should check that you didn't want to take me, instead.”  
  
House snorted. “Nope. You girls have fun,” he said, but Wilson caught a quick flicker of amusement on his face. He stared at House, stunned.  
  
“Seriously? _You're_ planning taking me to a musical?”  
  
“Don't worry, it's nothing as boring as Annie,” House smirked.  
  
“But you don't watch musicals.”  
  
“Who said anything about watching?”  
  
“What, you're just gonna drive me there, wait in the car, and then drive me home? That doesn't count as taking me, you know.”  
  
“Luckily, I'm well acquainted with _taking you_ ,” House remarked, scooting over to Wilson's side of the couch to kiss him ravenously.  
  
Wilson felt his cock stirring, and he relinquished the fight, straddling House and deepening the kiss. He found House already hard and rubbed against him while House's tongue continued to catalogue his mouth.  
  
“Pants off,” House grumbled, and he was only happy to oblige, for the friction was making his dick lust for more. He got rid of his own pants followed by House's, lowering himself back on top of him.  
  
“Ahh, better,” House grunted, as their dicks slid together, wet with precome. Wilson kissed him and wrapped his hand around them both. House echoed his moan as he started moving his hand in steady motions.  
  
House took a hold of his hips, urging him to fuck his own hand, cock rubbing against House's. Wilson had to break the kiss in order to breath, which immediately became challenging again when House focused his attention on a spot of his neck, licking and biting gently.  
  
“Oh, Jesus, House,” Wilson gasped breathlessly, as he felt himself getting closer.  
  
House's eyes fixed on him, the blue darkened by desire, locked on him, intense. “Do it, now,” House murmured, and Wilson felt his breath catch. He thrust one last time before the wave of pleasure hit him, warm and unyielding.  
  
He buried his head into House's shoulder, breathing in his scent. He released his own spent cock, but held onto House's, jerking him lazily, feeling House tremble under his touch, breathing heavier.  
  
“God, Wilson, oh, fuck.” House stilled under him, his penis pulsating against Wilson's fingers.  
  
They stayed silent for a while, until House kissed him. There was a gentleness in his eyes that made Wilson melt. _God, I love you_ , he thought. He knew saying it out loud would result in House calling him a sap. He didn't mind, but he suddenly had a better idea.  
  
“So. Where do you suppose I would need golden boxer shorts?” Wilson asked.  
  
House's expression changed to the slightly disturbing grin that often preceded an occasion where Wilson was embarrassed in some new and unexpected way.  
  
“Patience, Jimmy-boy.”  
  
“House...”  
  
“Good things come to those who wait,” House winked, shutting Wilson up with a soft and gentle kiss that made him forget about underwear and other associated weirdness.  
  
  
**  
  
  
In the following weeks House skilfully evaded Wilson's attempts of finding out about the gift, distracting him with supposedly clever comments, or with more inventive uses of his mouth.  
  
Every once in a while Wilson would need to find older paperwork, and he'd come across the mysterious boxers in the bottom drawer of his desk. However, with the date set only a month away, he was becoming too busy with wedding preparations to think about it.  
  
House was, of course, more of a nuisance than help.  
  
“You took it, didn't you?”  
  
“Took what?” House asked, pretending innocence.  
  
“Your mother still hasn't RSVP'd. I'm starting to think that she never got the invitation.”  
  
“You don't trust me, your own fiancé?” House asked, feigning hurt.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Don't worry, she'll get it in the next couple of days.”  
  
“She will? That's strange, considering I sent them over a week ago.”  
  
“Huh.”  
  
“What did you do?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“House,” Wilson warned.  
  
“Well, the previous invitation was so bland. Don't worry, I only added a picture of us.”  
  
Wilson felt his mouth go dry. “Which picture?” he asked, with a distinct feeling that he didn't want to know. So of course House showed him.  
  
“No you didn't!”  
  
“It's so romantic! Dad must be so proud, his only son finally tying the knot.”  
  
Wilson covered his head in his arms. “House...”  
  
“What? We've got our clothes on and everything. Well, most of them anyway.”  
  
  
**

  
“Pleeease, Cuddy.”  
  
“Couldn't you just focus on organising the wedding?”  
  
“Wilson does the wedding and I'm throwing the bachelor party. Both of us sticking to what we know, you see?”  
  
“Well, that's smart of him,” Cuddy admitted.  
  
“So?”  
  
“House, you cannot think I'd say yes to this.”  
  
“But it's gonna be Wilson's last bachelor party.”  
  
“I know this might have gone unnoticed by you, but this is a hospital, not a... a...”  
  
“Drag club?” House supplied helpfully.  
  
“I was going to say gay bar.”  
  
“You've got to take me to the gay bars you hang out at if they do stuff like this.”  
  
“Why don't you just do it at home?” Cuddy asked. “Isn't that how you got Wilson to show up to Chase's bachelor party, by secretly throwing it at your place?”  
  
“That's so been there, done that.”  
  
“Well, as happy as I am that you've refrained from doing it in the hospital, I'm still going to say no.”  
  
“But I'll need an elevator for a dramatic entrance. I guess I could use the one in our building, but I'm pretty sure the bigoted neighbours would then finally have the grounds for evicting us.”  
  
Cuddy looked at him like he'd gone insane. Thankfully House had gotten that look enough times to know his way around it.  
  
“Plus, I already got all the outfits and everything,” House added conspiratorially.  
  
Cuddy's eyebrows shot up. “You're not going to...” she frowned in disbelief.  
  
House shrugged. “I'm the only guy who can sing.”  
  
Cuddy's eyes lit up and she grinned wildly.  
  
“Five hours of clinic duty and you're on.”  
  
  
**  
  
  
“What the hell?” Wilson wondered, trying to peer out of the car window. The Volvo had suddenly come to a halt, barely out of the hospital parking lot.  
  
“Have you had trouble before?” Cameron asked. She had asked for a ride home, and was now rising out of the car.  
  
“No, nothing,” Wilson said, getting out from his side. He cursed when he saw that one of his tires was flat. He went through his pockets, coming up with nothing. “That's weird. I'm sure I had my cell phone on me when I left the office.”  
  
Cameron shifted a little, and Wilson glanced at her suspiciously. She was acting strange, tonight. First, with needing a ride, and then the dress, which wasn't her usual style at all. Rose really wasn't her colour.  
  
“There isn't anything you want to tell me, is there?” Wilson asked her. She didn't quite meet his eyes, the colour of her cheeks now matching her dress.  
  
“No, nothing. You must have forgotten it somewhere,” she said.  
  
“And you don't happen to have your phone, do you?”  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
“Fine,” Wilson said, rubbing his neck, exasperated. He didn't know the why, but the who was an easy guess.  
  
They walked back towards the hospital in silence. Cameron was looking slightly embarrassed, but she didn't open up. Wilson figured he'd go and kill House and then use his cell phone to call somebody to fix the car.  
  
He was so focused on the ways in which he'd make House pay (the cruellest of which included making him literally pay for his own food for a change) that it took him a few moments to take in the hospital lobby.  
  
“Um, what...”  
  
Cameron grinned at Wilson while he looked around. They had hardly been gone for fifteen minutes, but the entrance hall looked very different than it had. The walls were covered with white and red fabrics, and the centre table had been transformed into a bar. But the strangest thing was the amount of colleagues that were present, most of them dressed in suits, looking distinctly embarrassed.  
  
House's team approached him and begun leading him towards the elevator. Their clothes were starting to ring a bell, but Wilson couldn't put his finger on it. Thirteen was wearing a dazzling golden tuxedo and a top hat, and Wilson couldn't help but notice that her legs were showing much more than usual.  
  
Kutner was dressed in a butler's outfit. He grinned at Wilson. “Don't worry, we're not actually gonna do the Time Warp.”  
  
“Yeah, I don't tap,” Thirteen added, grinning at Wilson's stunned expression. Taub was wearing his normal suit and a frown telling of deep disapproval.  
  
They turned him around at the elevator, and Wilson started laughing as he took in the text above the main doors. The huge, red letters spelled out:  
  
ROCKY HORROR BACHELOR PARTY  
  
It had been years since he'd last seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show, but it was starting to come back to him.  
  
“Where's House?” Wilson asked.  
  
“Ladies and gentlemen, not for very much longer,” Cuddy announced from the centre of the lobby, looking straight at him and smiling broadly. She looked stunning in the maid outfit, which House had no doubt planned all along.  
  
When the elevator binged, everybody turned to look. Wilson thought it must have been Foreman who put on the music, which started right as the doors opened.  
  
Wilson stared at House speechless, feeling himself grow hot all over. He ran his eyes over House's body, taking in the red satin corset with laces and the long red gloves, the black women's underwear, black suspenders and socks, dense enough to hide the scar. And _holy fuck_ the red high-heels.  
  
And damn if Wilson would've ever expected it, but House looked sexy as hell with make up.  
  
“House...” he muttered, unable to find more words.  
  
The older doctor looked at him with a small smile, clearly satisfied with himself.  
  
“So. How do you do? I see you've met my faithful handyman,” House muttered, gesturing at Kutner. He stepped closer to Wilson, who felt like House's presence filled whole of his space. House was the taller of them, but he often walked slightly slumped, whereas now he was standing tall in the heels, leaning on a sophisticated black cane.  
  
“Um--” Wilson struggled to find something to say. He stared at House's face. “You shaved.”  
  
“Seriously? That's what you're fixating on?” House asked with amused grin. The way in which his body heat radiated right into and surrounded him felt intense.  
  
“House...” Wilson whispered, blushing, staring at the other man. He had a flash of House's lips, full with the dark red shade, around his cock.  
  
“I shaved my legs, too,” House murmured, and Wilson had to swallow, fighting a losing battle with his arousal. House stood right there, close, for what felt like a long time but was probably just a few moments, while the music kept playing.  
  
Then House smiled wickedly and started singing. The voice was the familiar baritone that he'd heard on so many nights, but the song was completely different from anything House had sung before.  
  
 _Don't get strung out by the way that I look,_  
 _Don't judge a book by its cover_  
  
Wilson's eyes followed House, as he walked towards the centre of the lobby. It shouldn't have worked so well, but the way in which House moved with the cane – there was a deliberate confidence and magnetism, and Wilson couldn't stop staring. And neither could anybody else, from what he could gather.  
  
 _I'm not much of a man by the light of day,_  
 _But by night I'm one hell of a lover_  
  
House turned around, and his eyes pierced Wilson, who caught his breath. And as if the clothes weren't turning him on enough already, House moved his hips in an insanely erotic way that made Wilson feel flushed.  
  
 _I'm just a Sweet Transvestite from Transexual, Transylvania._  
  
 _So let me show you around, maybe play you a sound_  
 _You look like you're pretty groovy_  
 _Or if you want something visual that's not too abysmal_  
 _We could take in an old Steve Reeves movie_  
  
Wilson stood and stared until House's team came to lead him towards the older doctor. Not that he didn't want to walk there himself, but both his brain and his legs seemed to have stopped functioning.  
  
“If we'd gone by looks, Taub would've been the obvious choice for Riff Raff, of course,” Chase smirked, taking Cameron by the hand. He was wearing bland clothes and round glasses that made him look at least ten years older.  
  
Taub raised his eyebrows, smiling dryly at Wilson. “Chase is just pissed about being dressed as Brad. You might remember that Frank seduces both him and Janet. I don't know which he's more worried about happening.”  
  
Wilson laughed at the black look Chase gave Taub from behind the huge glasses.  
  
House looked at him with a satisfied expression, smiling in a smug way, which – Wilson noted with amusement – matched the next lyrics.  
  
 _So you got caught with a flat, well, how about that?_  
 _Well baby, don't you panic._  
 _By the light of the night when it all seems alright_  
 _I'll get you a satanic mechanic_  
  
 _I'm just a Sweet Transvestite from Transexual, Transylvania._  
  
 _So why don't you stay for the night? Or maybe a bite?_  
 _I could show you my favourite obsession..._  
  
Wilson shivered at the emphases House put on the last word. _Damn_. He felt his throat dry up when House continued in a seductive voice.  
  
 _I've been making a man with brown hair and a tan_  
 _And he's good for relieving my tension_  
  
 _I'm just a Sweet Transvestite from Transexual, Transylvania_  
  
Somebody turned down the music, so that it was just silently on the background.  
  
“Excellent casting with Cameron, if I say so myself,” House smirked. “She looks a bit like she might faint, doesn't she?”  
  
“Hey,” Cameron protested, somewhat half-heartedly.  
  
“Don't worry, I won't seduce Brad,” House promised. “Wouldn't want you to get all dirty with Rocky, here,” he said, gesturing at Wilson.  
  
He was momentarily distracted, until he remembered who, exactly, Rocky was. “Oh, no. No. I'm not wearing them,” he told House, feeling his face heat at the thought of the golden underwear.  
  
“We'll see about that,” House smirked. He then raised an eyebrow to Thirteen. “I could kill of Eddie, though, if you want to get your groove on with Magenta.”  
  
Foreman grinned smugly. “No need to get your axe from the freezer. How do you think she talked me into coming?” he winked. House looked impressed when Foreman and Thirteen headed towards Cuddy together.  
  
“The kids are growing up,” he said to Wilson, sentimentally.  
  
“Indeed. You think they could take care of themselves for a while?” Wilson asked, scanning House from head to toe.  
  
“Thought you'd never ask,” House smirked, before bellowing, “Riff Raff, hit the music!”  
  
The music came back to louder again, and Wilson followed House as the the older doctor made his way to the elevator. He felt desire surge through him at the way in which House's hips moved when he walked.  
  
House turned around, leaning against the elevator door, which was kept open by an uncomfortable-looking but surprisingly helpful Taub. Wilson felt himself shiver as House looked at him flirtatiously, the music and his low voice the only sounds in the hall.  
  
 _So come up to the lab. And see what's on the slab._  
 _I see you shiver with antici..._  
  
“Yes,” Wilson breathed out softly, following when House tugged Wilson in the elevator from the tie.  
  
House's pupils darkened and he murmured the last bit thicker, “ _...pation_.”  
  
“No kidding,” Wilson whispered, feeling so damn hard that he thought he might come in his pants. Well, at least not many people would notice, with House capturing everybody's attention.  
  
House stared at him, and if there was more to the song, neither of them were remembering it. It was only when the music stopped that Wilson was startled by the fact that a roomful of people were watching them intently, with expressions ranging from interested and appreciative smiles to heavily disbelieving frowns. Wilson felt his face heat up, but House seemed unconcerned.  
  
“We'll be back once Wilson's changed into the Rocky outfit,” he announced. “It's gonna take a while,” House leered, before letting the elevator door close.  
  
“You're insane,” Wilson stated, needlessly.  
  
“That's why you love me,” House's smile looked slightly manic with the dark lipstick, and it had a magnetism that seemed to draw Wilson in. The kiss left him breathless, and House had probably held the elevator door open with his cane for several minutes before they managed to get out and stagger towards his office.  
  
“Clothes off, Jimmy,” House said, getting the golden boxers from the bottom drawer.  
  
“There's no way I'm wearing those,” Wilson said with amusement, though he made no move to stop House's hands form attacking his zipper.  
  
“C'mon, you know how many favours I had to pull to get your cancer buddies to dress appropriately?”  
  
“You mean how many of them you had to blackmail.”  
  
“You can't be the only one not dressed up for your own bachelor party,” House argued, ridding him of his pants.  
  
“It's my party, I'm allowed,” Wilson said a little breathlessly, as House's gloved hand brushed against his cock.  
  
“So, that means you don't mind that I change back to jeans?” House took a step as if to go.  
  
“Don't you dare,” Wilson replied fast, blocking the door.  
  
“And why not? It's my party, too, after all.”  
  
“'Cause I need that mouth on me,” Wilson murmured in his ear. House inhaled sharply and offered no resistance when Wilson pushed him on the couch.  
  
“You do, huh?” House asked, in a voice softened with lust. Wilson flushed as the blue eyes fixed on him.  
  
“Need it, wanna see it--” Wilson breathed out and then felt his brain function leave him as House's dark red lips were finally surrounding his dick, and the sight of it was even more of a turn on that he'd imagined. His hips arched into the heat, and House made no move to still him.  
  
Wilson leaned his hands against the wall, trying desperately to hold onto self-control, but the movement and suction of House's mouth was breaking it down impossibly fast.  
  
“Ahh, House... stop.. 'm gonna come,” Wilson panted, and House pulled back with evident reluctance. Wilson dropped on his knees in front of House, kissing him passionately and running his hands on the silky fabric of the corset.  
  
“There's something so fucking hot in that...” Wilson muttered as House lowered the panties enough to reveal his cock. “The contrast... oh, fuck...” His eyes locked on the sight of House's gloved hand moving the fabric out of the way.  
  
“C'mon, touch me,” House said, dragging him closer. Wilson moved his fingers to encase House's flesh. He felt like coming on the spot at the low moan that escaped the red lips, staring as if hypnotised at his own hand moving on House's dick, long and hard against the underwear and the suspenders.  
  
“God, I want you to fuck me,” Wilson breathed.  
  
“Yesss,” House hissed as Wilson moved his fingers over the slit, “shit, Wilson, Jesus, you gotta stop...”  
  
House's eyes widened as Wilson kneeled on top of him. “The lube is in there,” he mumbled, gesturing towards the desk.  
  
“Don't need it,” Wilson assured, guiding House's cock to the right place. House swallowed, but he shut up, focusing on staying still.  
  
Precome made House's penis slick, but it still burned enough going in to make Wilson wonder if this had been a good idea. They hadn't fucked without lube all that often, but he'd felt like it, now.  
  
“Just wait a bit,” Wilson said hastily, stilling himself until he felt his body agree with him, and allow House's cock move slowly deeper in his ass.  
  
“Christ,” House uttered in a strangled voice. Wilson felt like coming apart. He captured the other man's mouth into a kiss, his mouth moving greedily, tongue darting into House's mouth, pushing against his lips, tasting the lipstick and the eager wetness.  
  
Movement of House's hips sent Wilson's eyes flying open, and he moaned as the sharp twinge of pain twisted into pleasure. The blue eyes fixed on him, studying his face in a way that was way too intense and made him feel shivery and hot.  
  
Wilson felt himself hard as iron, and his dick rubbed against the corset with each thrust, making him bite down on his bottom lip, unable to stop the incoherent sounds that mostly resembled sobs. He saw House's eyes darken, and he thrust harder now, pulling Wilson close against him, chest against chest, the lace of the corset grinding against his dick, causing friction that was way too rough and so fucking perfect.  
  
“That's making you hot, isn't it?” House's voice asked, roughly. He was pushing in him more urgently.  
  
“Yes, fuck, oh, ohh...” Wilson panted, “House, please,” he begged desperately, not sure for what, now, as the sensation was surrounding him, grasping him fully. His dick was aching, leaking fluid all over the silky fabric of the red corset.  
  
“God, Wilson, you're such a fucking slut like that,” House growled. Wilson panted, arousal surging in him like electricity, making it impossible for him to form words to reply. His breath was catching and his blood running just a little faster as it always did when House talked to him like this, lust and shame and desire flowing like hot currents into his cock.  
  
House didn't seem to have any problem with forming words, though his voice was ragged and low. “I should have you on your knees before me, with my cock in your mouth, sucking me off as you take care of yourself.”  
  
Wilson felt himself trembling, so close to the edge, digging his fingers into House's shoulders, pushing back into every thrust, House's voice rasping in his ear, “...I'd fuck your mouth until I'm coming in your throat, and I'd have you come on the high-heels and then lick them clean--”  
  
“Ohhh, God.” Wilson could no longer make out the voice, for he was exploding, so fucking hard, blood roaring in his ears, come spilling on the corset and House's chest. He could feel House's cock rocking in him fast before House stilled under him, biting into his shoulder rough as he came, the sound raw and animalistic.  
  
Wilson winched as he moved off House, dropping onto the couch, sated. He watched House get up and walk to the desk. Wilson blushed as House examined the corset.  
  
“Don't think I'll be joining the party in this, anymore,” House smirked. “Your turn!” he announced, throwing the golden boxers at him.  
  
“How about we just go home?” Wilson suggested. He doubted that the rest of the bachelor party could live up to their private celebrations.  
  
“Now what would be the fun in that?”  
  
“Oh, I'll show you, don't worry,” Wilson promised.  
  
“Only if you'll change for the walk through the entrance hall.”  
  
“How about I wear them all weekend for you?” Wilson asked.  
  
“Fine,” House conceded. “Don't want more oncology nurses lusting after you anyway.”

 

 

 


End file.
